


My Own Worst Enemy

by skyott



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Depression, Drinking to Cope, Gender Dysphoria, Internalized Transphobia, M/M, Other Possibly Triggering Content, Porn With Plot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 02:10:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9527183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyott/pseuds/skyott
Summary: After the events of Haven, Elain struggles with his inner demons, leading to a struggle with a self loathing he hasn't felt since his parents disowned him. It's hard enough being the Herald of Andraste, with all of Thedas on your shoulders, but what happens when you need a shoulder?





	1. The Bar

**Author's Note:**

> A small ficlit written purely to get some of my own feelings out after a rough series of events. Constructive criticizium is appreciated and encouraged, as writing is not my typical muse. This fic will contain depressive themes, PTSD, Dysphoria, and internalized transphobia. This chapter specifically is mainly alcohol abuse and depressed thoughts.

_Why did it have to be me? Sure, I'm religious, but so was most of the conclaive. I just wanted to make a little more profit, aid as a guard for one of the groups leaving when the peace talks failed or something. But no, the Maker had to choose me, a failure and a freak who couldn't even be born in the right gender. He just loves to watch me suffer, doesn't He?_  
  
Elain sighed, taking another shot of whatever Cabot had poured him. He entered _The Herald's Rest_ with the intention of either drinking away his thoughts or passing out so he wouldn't be alone with them. Sure, it wouldn't look good for the Inquisitor to be drunk off his ass within the first week, Josephine would certainly give him an earful, but at this point he couldn't bring himself to care about anything. How could he, when he had just failed his new friends, allies, those who looked to him for Andraste's word? He snorts to himself.  
  
_It's real fuckin' ironic, ain't it? You prayed to Her when they kicked you on your ass for refusing to pretend to be their little girl, and prayed some more after you downed 10 health potions and loped off your own chest like an idiot. Then she goes and pulls you outta the fade, "Oh hey Elain! Remember all those times you prayed and said you'd do anything if you made it through this? Great, cuz now you gotta save Thedas from a Darkspawn asshole and his pet Archdemon! Oh, and did I mention you'll become my messanger to the people as well?" Fuck man, I can hardly crawl out of bed some days, let alone be a messanger for the Maker's Bride._

"Cabot, I need another- whatever the hell you've been pouring me." Elain grumbled, struggling not to slur. Cabot looked up from the mug he was wiping down,  
  
"Sorry Inquisitor, but Josephine will have my ass if I let you get smashed. You can stay and keep grumbling if you like, though." Elain pouts at him, slouching on the barstool to lean on the bar.  
  
"As adorable as you are with your pout, you may want to sit up. Slouching is horrible on your back." Elain looks up and almost smiles. Almost.  
"I look adorable no matter what I do, it come's with being short."  
  
"Indeed." Dorian smiles, pulling up a stool next to him. "Now, care to tell me what's got you looking so dreary?" The question comes off teasing, as it usually is, but there's a tinge of concern there that sets Elain on edge. He looks to the taller man and gives him his best flirtatious smile.  
  
"Perhaps after a few more drinks? They say it loosens the tongue, among other-"  
  
"No." Cabot cut's him off, Elain's batting eyes quickly turning towards the bartender to glare. "You're cut off. If you try one more time you're getting the boot, and I tell Josephine."  
  
"Well fuck you too, Cabot. If anyone needs me, I'll be in my quarters with a dozen or so Conscription Ales." He snaps, hopping off his stool and stomping off. 


	2. Trapped

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter deals with PTSD after Haven and dysphoria. I plan on finishing with 1 more short chapter, including some horizontal mombo. Small nod towards one of trashwarden's mini comics at the begining, which is apparently a referance as well.

_Wrong. All wrong. I'm wrong. Whoever said drinking alcohol treated inside wounds was wrong. It was wrong for me to have survived the conclave. It was wrong to think I could do good by all those people at Haven, there's no way I could have done good by them. I'm a fuckup, even my birth was a mistake, Father even said so. I'm living, breathing proof that the Maker makes mistakes. First He made me, then He chose me to be the savior of the world. Good going, Maker, you just ensured the end of Thedas as we know it._

A knock.

"Inqusitor? Are you in there? I'm coming in."

_Shit! Dorian!_ Elain attempts to pull his nightshirt on, but only ends up falling over one of the many empty bottles lining the floor between the two couches across from each other in front of his fireplace. He gracefully whacks his head on the floor as Dorian enters, the betraying bottle rolling at a steady speed towards him. Fuck it, it's not like Dorian hadn't seen his intensly scarred excuse of a chest before. Dorian stops the bottle with his foot, quirking a brow and giving Elain a pointed look. "You know, when I said you'd fall for me eventually, this isn't exactly what I meant." There was a pause, where Dorian expected the usual witty and flirty retourt, but Elain just gave him a tired look, laying his head back to stare at the ceiling and sigh. After a moment, he spoke, nearly whispering.

"I know what you're going to say, 'Inquisitor, are you alright?', and you know I'll just say, 'I'm fine, just dandy.'"

"But we both know that's a lie," Dorian said, sitting down on one of two the couches. "So what's going on?"

Another pause. _He care's about me, he doesn't deserve some bullshit answer._

"Haven. It's all I can think of. I keep blaiming myself, when I know it's not my fault, but I do everything wrong, so it should be." Elain takes a breath, squeezing his eyes closed and sitting up. "It's always my fault, though. If I were stronger, I could have stopped Coryphious. If I had the stones, I wouldn't have hesitated, and could have saved more people. If I'd been faster, the trebuches would have been fired sooner, and we'd have lost less soldiers." It was all just pouring out now, his words becoming hurried as panic rose in his voice, curling in on himself as though to hide from his memories that washed over him. "If I were born a man, a real man, I could have done so much better, but I'm just a weak little girl, pretending-"

"Stop Elain, stop." Dorian was sitting on the ground next to him now, a comforting hand on his sholder. Elain opened his eyes to look at him, blinking away tears he hadn't realized were there. "You aren't pretending to be anything." Dorian stated firmly, looking him in the eye. "You are just as much a man as anyone who was born one, if not even more so. How many men do you know can look an archdemon in the eye and not soil their small clothes?" Elain looked back into Dorian's eyes, fondness and concern lighting up his gaze. Letting out a small, shakey breath, Elain slumped his head against Dorian's chest, closing his eyes and just focusing on breathing. Dorian pulled the smaller man against himself.

"What happened at Haven was terrible, but you did everything you could. None of it is your fault, Amatus." Dorian let's it slip without thinking. Elain sniffles.

"Thank you, Dorian. It helps, just to talk it out." Dorian gives a small, releaved sigh.

"Anytime, Inquisitor. I am good for more than just my looks, after all." They sit like that for a while, Elain resting his head against him while Dorian holds him close. Then, the Inquisitor looks up at him.

"Dorian, what does 'Amatus' mean?"


	3. Amatus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, porn! It's probably compleatly unnecessary to the story, but the lack of m/m containing transguys besides Krem in this fandom bugs me to no end. And you know what they say, If you want something done, do it yourself. Or hear about it for the next 200 years.

"Well?" Elain questioned, looking up at Dorian's bright red face.

"It's, well, a term of endearment...?" Dorian looked away from the other's questioning, and now amused look.

"A term of endearment meaning what, exactly?" Dorian sighed in defeat,

"The best translation I can give would be _'Beloved'_..."

Elain's amused gaze turned into a smirk, his face starting to mirror Dorian's flush. "Well, seem's I'm not the only one who fell for someone, huh?"

The other man's brows rose. "Really now?"

"No Dorian, I'm only in your arms because it's cold, and your overly fancy armor is warm. Now are you gonna kiss me, or do I gotta do everything myself?" He barely had a chance to finish his sentance before Dorian closed the distance, shifting the smaller man so he was sitting in his lap. _Maker's breath, Dorian, you're going to be the end of me._ The kiss started out soft, nervous, trying to figure out a position where mustaches weren't tickling noses, but soon both were gripping to each other, needing to be closer to the other. They parted for breath, Elain taking the oppertuinity to kiss down to the mage's neck. A pleased gasp encourages him, nibbling and sucking, marking the man in the process. A slight bulge begins to form under him, which he gladly rubs himself against.

"Kaffas, Elain! Can we move to the bed already?" Dorian swears, earning a shit-eating grin from the other.

"Fine, if we must. And here I was hoping to drive you mad, tease you till to take me right here on the floor." He jumps up at Dorian's groan, grinning while already unbuttoning his trousers. Dorian stands, shaking his head and smiling while unbuckling his cuirass.

"You are a terrible tease, Inquisitor." Elain grins, fully admiring the view.

"Well how about you hurry up and get over here to take your vengence?" With that, Dorian swiftly removed his remaining clothing, tossing them aside and locking lips with him again. This kiss was much more forcefull, hungry, with teeth bumping and lip biting, Elain gripping the back of Dorian's hair while he gets a handfull of Elain's ass. They fall back onto the matress, Dorian falling between the smaller man's legs. He looks down into his eyes with a soft smile.

"So, what are the boundries here?"

"Nothing goes in, on, or around the front." Elain pants, "Beyond that, have me any way you like."

Dorian nods, leaning down for another kiss while his hand runs along the cleft of his cheeks to his entrance, circling with his pointer experimentally before casting a lubrication spell and slowly pushing in. A soft groan escapes Elain, breaking the kiss. _Fuck, that feels good._

It wasn't long before Dorian could add another finger, then a third, stretching him open and working him up. "Dorian," Elain whimpers, "Please, fuck me already.."  
  
"Are you sure you're ready?" Dorian questions, not wanting to hurt the man. Elain responds with an enthusiastic nod, face beet red all the way to his ears, scarred chest shifting with his heavy breaths. He removes his fingers, eliciting a whine from below. He hushes him with a peck, slicking himself up before positioning himself. He starts to enter slowly, as slowly as he can with Elain wriggling himself closer. They both groan, pressing their foreheads together. Once finally fully sheithed in the man, he starts with small thrusts, not really pulling out, but more rotating his hips while Elain gets used to the feeling.

Elain gasps with the motion, closing his eyes and laying his head back. Dorian tisks, giving a true thrust, much to the shock of the other. "I wan't you to look at me, watch me while I fuck you." Elain flushes darker, giving a soft moan and nodding. He picks up the pace, setting a steady rythum that slowly builds up force while Elain begins to touch himself to his thrusts. He wraps Elain's legs around his waist, picking up his hips a bit to get a deeper position. _Ohh fuck, at this rate, I won't last long._

"Dorian, I'm-"

"I know, Amatus, me too. You're doing such a good job, so good..." Dorian murmers in his ear, earning a pleased groan. Elain could feel the familure tightening in his gut, and it was just a minute before he was pushed over the edge, cursing with the contractions of his muscles. Dorian finishes at that, riding them both out through the high. They take a moment to catch their breath before Dorian pulls out and colapses next to him. Elain manages to worm his way under Dorian's arm, nuzzling into Dorian's chest much to his amusment. "Who would have thought, the mighty Inquisitor is a cuddler!" Dorian chuckles at the raspberry he recieves in responce, gently rubbing the Inquisitor's back as they both drift off to sleep.


End file.
